


your turn in phrases

by fated_addiction



Category: Korean Drama, Vampire Geomsa | Vampire Prosecutor
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither of them are good at this. Yoo understands this better than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your turn in phrases

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene a la episode nine. Spoilers for episode nine. Because I probably won't be able to handle episode ten.

The elevator is taking too long.

Yoo picks her nail between her teeth. She rocks onto her heels. Min sighs; Soon Bum will beat them downstairs anyways. 

“This isn’t your _fault_ ,” she blurts, and the elevator doors open. She bites off her nail. He enters first. “Someone needs to say it,” she says quietly. She fixes herself to the floor. “Just so you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

The truth is simple. Neither of them can count for the numbers that have passed, between their outing and the disappearance of Ji Ae. The unwarranted cries of the little girl are still stuck in her head. She can only think this: it’s too horrible and if there is an end to this – there _will_ be one – she can only hope that Ji Ae can forgive all of them. Yoo remembers what it was like being a child who cannot forget.

So she counts the floors as the elevator dives into parking. Seven, six, and in her head, it’s as still as Min stands next to her. No labored breaths. Not even one slip of panic. She wonders then why, but knows there’s no place for it.

It doesn’t stop her from slamming her fist into the _stop_ button for the elevator.

It lurches forward. She stumbles and Min slams a fist into the wall.

She looks up at him, bangs in her eyes.

“You need to say something,” she says.

“We don’t have time for this,” he argues. The impatience slips into his voice.

“No,” she says. “But you’re wounded even more tightly than the rest of us. I’m not asking you what’s going on in your head. I’m telling you to take the time to let it out because whatever’s going on, it’s not going to help us find Ji Ae and Dr. Jo is the only one that gets to lose it. We both know that.”

He reaches for the elevator button. She pushes his hand away.

“Leave it _here_ ,” she orders.

His lip turns into half a snarl. He seems to loom over her then. His eyes are sharp.

“Press the button,” he says quietly.

His eyes are wide and dark. She keeps herself in place. You are not the scariest man _I’ve seen_ , she wants to say. But he doesn’t get to know that. And this is not the time or the place for any of it either.

“Sixty seconds,” she counters. She shifts so that she’s in front of the keypad. His gaze follows her. Then he takes a step over. “Get it out, _now_.”

She’s brash. She’s disrespectful. Unintentional, she’ll argue later. Maybe apologize. But they’ve been working so closely now, all of them, and she gets to know this little bit of him, this strange, small part of him, that pulls at her nerves and instincts like nothing else. She won’t let this go.

His fist slams into the wall. The sound echoes. She doesn’t jump. There is a catch of breath; maybe him, maybe her. She doesn’t know. Yoo lets her mouth part. Min drops his gaze then. He’s trembling. Or maybe he just moves – she doesn’t let herself notice. He always seems to be too fast as it is.

“He asked me.” His voice is low. “I promised.”

“He asked us all,” she murmurs.

Min’s mouth twitches. “It’s not working,” he murmurs.

“I’m not good at placating you,” she says dryly. Then, seriously, “thirty seconds.”

His gaze meets hers.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” he says.

“I don’t,” she says back. She wets her lips. He’s leaning forward. “I know that much,” she murmurs.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he says, and his mouth grazes over hers, open. It’s too soft to be anything, but he’s touching her and there is a line being crossed, a big one, too big to be anything else. He’s never gone this far. She’s never let him either. She doesn’t even know how to say _it can’t be this moment_ because it can’t be anything but.

Instead, she’s brushing her fingers into his jacket. She lets him take. She _thinks_ she lets him take. She pulls at the zipper. She sighs and swallows against his mouth.

“Ten,” she manages breathlessly. He bites at her lip. She makes a sound. “And nine,” she counts again.

“I keep my promises,” he manages.

“Eight,” she says.

The hand next to her head, or somewhere next to her head, peels off the wall into her hair and curling into a fist. His mouth slams into hers and she feels the elevator shift into moving, letting him kiss her into distraction.

She thinks about his mouth this way: hard and cold, his teeth back to pulling into her lips, and she sighs, _oh_ , she sighs and he steals that too, swallowing her breath. She does not think of Ji Ae because this is just as selfish of a moment, and she cannot think of Dr. Jo, upstairs, wide-eyed and folded into grief over a desk, because all those things require a clear head. There is something happening here that has no place, but it has no other place that she can think of.

Yoo pulls back first. Her fist is curled in his jacket. Her eyes are closed.

The elevator stumbles into a stop.

“Keep your promises then,” she says.

 

 

 

It all goes to hell.

They do not find Ji Ae. They lose Dr. Jo. 

Yoo throws up just outside her car. Min is not there to hold her hair. 

There are too many secrets for a promise.

This is the real truth.


End file.
